Yellow Biohazard
by Pokefreakagain
Summary: It's been three and a half months since the planet was locked down in a seemingly never ending quarantine. To everyone on the planet, no help is coming. If things weren't bad enough, Arthur Kirkland, who up until now has managed to survive on his own, nearly runs into a one Alfred F. Jones. Literally.
1. Prologue

Before anyone throws a shit fit let me say! This is my new account! All my stories and profile have been deleted from the other one. Which is called

"Thereshouldbeablankhere". So yeah same person here just on a different account. I am going through and rereading/editing my stories so don't expect regular updates or the like. I do have college and a job and a son to tend to. But I will update whenever I can. This is also over on AO3 or archive of our own under the name "kalokalovesyou" just in case you wanted to know. I will eventually even put this on my tumblr. And if anyone actually wants that just let me know and I'll add it by the next update. Onto prologue!

* * *

**_.x._**

_"Sir, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go."_

_I glance to my right as I wait for the elevator to it the bottom level. My Second is standing with his hands clasped behind his back, uniform was perfect and smooth as it always was. Not even a strand of his hair, slicked back in his usual fashion, was out of place. It almost makes me want to ruffle his hair just to see what he would do. However, I am a Captain and manage to shove such an immature thought from my mind._

_"It's just for a couple of days," I grunt back in reply. "I'll be back before you know it."_

_The elevator stops and the door slides open. We step out and walk down the polished corridor, footsteps mirroring each other's perfectly. It wasn't something either of us did consciously, but over time, it just sort of happened. The only thing out of place is the soft click of nails against the floor. I glance at the floor and feel a smile briefly claim my lips at the sight of two canines padding ahead of us. Maybe they weren't quiet regulation but they weren't specifically against regulation either._

_"You really should consider taking a break yourself," I add as I stop in front of another door and enter my code. The door swishes open and we step through to the large transporter bay. The smaller of the two canines, one of the few last real dogs not genetically alerted, sat down on the floor near the door. His floppy ears perked as if he was paying close attention to the conversation._

_"I don't need to. Besides, someone needs to look after the ship until you return," he says as he takes his place by the transporter controls. The second and larger canine sits near his feet._

_I roll my eyes and drop my travel bag on one of the pads before walking around to stand next to him at the controls. The dog near my leg noses my hand and I rub the area behind his left ear. A moment later, my fingers fly over the controls with practiced ease. I have the coordinates entered and the machine waiting. I move to take my place when a strong hand on my wrist stops me. I look up at my Second with a questioning look at his confused look._

_"Is there something wrong?" I ask._

_"I think you should wait on this whole trip. I had my brother contact me the other day and he said he had some information that you might want to look at," he answers._

_I arch a brow and pull my wrist free, "The brother that you tell me a regular basis is a total twat?"_

_He frowns but lets his hand fall back to his side, "He may be a bit dense on many things, but I really believe he knows what he's talking about when things such as this are concerned."_

_I hop onto one of the pads and pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, "I promise I'll look at it when I get back. I won't be more than a few days, a week at the most. Take care of her while I'm away?"_

_He straightens and gives a curt nod, "As I always have, sir."_

_I feel a grin tug at my lips as I give him a salute and he returns it. He hesitates for a moment but pushes the last code and I hear the transporter whirl to life. The canines bark their parting words, tails tapping against the hard floor. I look around the room, unsure about the sinking feeling that this would be the last time I would see it…at least for a long time and can hear the faint echoes of my Second's last words to me._

_"Godspeed Captain Kirkland."_

**_.x._**


	2. Day 1

**Day 1**

**_.x._**

It's been three months. It feels like it's been a hell of a lot longer than that. It's been three months since I made the mistake of coming home, three months since I've been stranded on a planet that's been quarantined with no hope of that verdict of ever being reversed. Three months since I made the mistake of trying to be a decent human being, three months since the virus claimed hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of lives in a single night, three months since I left the peace of space for this hellhole.

I slowly let my eyes open, the hot water of the shower soothing away some of the tension that had been settling nicely in my body. It wasn't fair to blame the world for my misery. It was the victim more than I was by a long shot. I am simply being sour because I miss space or rather I miss my ship. You would think that by the 24th century we would have been able to discover a cure for just about everything. I mean, we can travel through bloody space for crying out loud! We, humans, managed to get off our backwater little planet and actually travel beyond our solar system! We were able to meet aliens and visit distant worlds that we could only once imagine! But, heaven forbid a little virus gets into our water supply and we're all but fucked!

The tension is back. I bow my head and watch as the water washes away the dirt and dust that has settled onto my skin like a second layer. It really did feel nice to have a hot shower again. I am really glad that the virus could only enter the body orally, so as long as I keep my mouth shut while I shower I will be fine. I tip my head back again and close my eyes. I can see my ship; I am a Captain you know. Captain of one of those few selected individuals that are given the honor to travel from planet to planet and I love it. The ship and her crew are my very life. I shouldn't even be here. My lips tug downward at the thought. Yes, I choose space over Earth. I don't have a reason to stay, even more so now all things considered.

My brothers were total bastards, but that wasn't to say I didn't love them; at least I think I did. I mean, sure a nice part of my annual salary went to them but that was more to make sure they left me alone rather than me actually caring. I should have known that the arrangement was too good to last. In fact, the whole money issue was exactly why I was on Earth when the virus hit.

I was on shore leave and my brother had sent me a so-called urgent message. It had said something about him and his third wife getting into it or some other rubbish like that. I wasn't particularly concerned for the stupid git, but I rather liked the wife. Unfortunately, I can't remember her name off hand, but the point is I was concerned for her. I knew that the bastard would probably end up divorcing her for some obscure and totally stupid reason and take everything. I had seen him do it to the last two; I wasn't going to let it happen if I could help it, so took my shore leave on Earth despite the invite from my number two to join him.

They were arguing when I pulled up. The windows and front door was closed but I could still hear them shrieking and throwing things at each other. I marched up to the door and threw it open; the first thing I was going to do was get the poor woman out of that house as soon as I could. I found them in the dining room, her on one side of the room and him on the other. I bee lined for her, grabbed her elbow, thus stopping her attempt to throw a steak knife at him, and had started to pull her towards the door when she screamed. This time, it was out of terror. I had looked over and watched as my brother clawed at his throat, eyes wide and blood shot, skin a strange grey color, and body convulsing. He was the very first victim but he was far from the last.

I don't understand the specifics (I'm not big in the science department I know enough to get by so I'm good) but I know enough to hope I never contract the bugger. They don't understand where the virus came from or how it even got into the water supply, but once it had it there wasn't much they could do about it. I had received a phone from my number two; poor chap was worried out of his mind about me and the rest of the crew that had taken the leave. Fortunately, most of them had gotten back before it got bad. A few of them weren't so lucky but because of the situation I didn't even get to know who it was, I had lost. In fact, I had no idea what was going on with my ship even now.

I sigh through my nose at the thought. The water was beginning to cool off, which means this is the end of my hot water for a while. I quickly scrub down with what warm water I have left and step out of the stall. The cold tile floor sends a shiver racing up my body as soon as my foot touches it. I reach for a towel and loosely drape it over my hips as I use a smaller one to scrub my hair. I pause in front of the foggy mirror and take inventory.

I have lost weight, it was to be expected given the situation, and although I have never really been built before hand, now I am nothing but a slender mess of skin and bones. That isn't saying I don't have muscle, I did work out thank you very much, but now I was just more girly looking. My eldest brother had been so fond of making fun of me at every chance he got. Anyway, my hair was growing out again, long enough for me to pull back with a band. I guess I really should have gotten that taken care of before I left. All well.

I pick up another small towel and wipe away the fog on the mirror so I can see better. I still have these dark circles under my green eyes and this was to be expected too. I lean closer to the mirror and poke gently at the red swelling on my right cheek. Some bugger had tried to mug me yesterday, wanted my bottled water (which is the only kind safe enough to drink now) and my vehicle. I know the situation is pathetic but there was no way in hell I was going to let him take what was mine. The end result was the bastard running off with his tail between his legs and me nursing a few bruises and a sprained wrist. I roll said wrist and wince a bit at the pain that shoots up my arm.

"Look at you now," I talk to the reflection staring back at me, "the great Captain reduced to this. Once known throughout the UTN for his skills now barely scraping by on a planet that's all but dead. How far you've come, Kirkland."

I shake my head and move away from the mirror. I try not to look at myself too often. It makes my stomach roll unpleasantly whenever I do so. I pad out of the washroom and into the master bedroom connected to it. The towel slips and I barely catch it before it falls from my hips. I'm not sure why I care, it's not like there's anyone here to look, habit I suppose. There are a select few on my crew that do not understand the concept of "knocking first". I cross over to the bed and pick up the clothes I washed yesterday. A simple white shirt and dark faded jeans with a hole at the bottom and the left knee, I slip the shirt on and climb into the jeans. I grab the belt lying nearby and slip it into place as I look around for my boots and socks.

I find them sitting on a chair on the other side of the room. I push them out and onto the floor as I plop down into the recliner, reaching for my communication device sitting on the table next to the arm. I run my left thumb over the screen and wait for the device to start up. The UTN insignia flickers to life before I'm let onto the net. I do a quick search of my usual places and find nothing new. I sigh and drop the two-inch-by-two-inch flat screen device back onto the table before reaching down for my socks.

The UTN does a damn good job at keeping the information to a minimum. I can see their reasoning though. Humans aren't exactly the favorite species in the galaxy. Many of the other species see humanity as a bully, pushing our way into their business and pretending to be this big hot thing. The last thing the UTN needs is for the other less friendly ones to get whiff that more than half their population had been wiped out over the last few months.

I run a hand through my still wet hair and lean back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. The UTN, or United Terra Nations, consisted of all the little nations that had once made up old Earth. Now, although many still kept their individual names, once nations were nothing more than city-states of a larger nation. It was the leaders of old Earth's attempt at peace by getting rid of all the individual nations and putting them on equal ground with each other. I can't say whether it really worked or not, but it did allow all those petty fights of the time to finally stop and concentrate on more important things. If one thing came out of it, I guess it was a good thing because that's how we managed to get off Earth in the first place.

I sit up and pull my boots on deciding that thinking about it will only put me in a bad mood. So, I dress and stand to begin to gather up the things I had scattered about the room. I pocket my mobile and pick up my leather jacket from where it's lying by the door and grab my keys. I don't give the room another look as I walk down the hall and make my way into the kitchen area. There's a box sitting on the island counter and I slide the keys onto my right pinky finger as I pick up the box, doing a quick check to make sure I had gotten everything usable from the place, before heading to the front door. I don't bother to close the door as I walk out and down the path to where my sleek hover vehicle is waiting silently.

I pop the trunk and drop the box in with all the other boxes before closing the trunk and going to the driver's side door and sliding it open. I slide into the driver's seat and toss my jacket into the passenger's seat as the door slides shut. I pull a band from my wrist and pull my hair back out of my face before reaching for the sunglasses sitting in the first cup holder by my thigh. I put them on and start the vehicle, looking back over my shoulder and all the boxes in the back seat as I pull out of the drive. I put the thing in drive and gun it, easily making it well over the speed limit in a matter of seconds.

I'm not worried about breaking any laws; after all, I had just spent the night in someone's home and taken their things. Well, at least it would have been their things if they were still living. Anyone who was still alive where either in the camps or forced to fend for themselves. I reach over and push the on button for the stereo as I roll the window down. It is something else really, to drive down a neighborhood or highway and see nothing but abandoned homes and vehicles. It is an eerie sort of peace. One I had resigned myself to living in until someone killed me or the virus got me first.

And from the look of it, it was going to be another boring day in this bloody hell.

At least until some yahoo throws himself in front of me.


	3. Day 1 2

_**Day 1.2**_

If the vehicle still possessed wheels, I have no doubt that they would have squealed as I try to pull it to an all too sudden stop. My eyes close well ahead of time so I don't see the person; rather I feel them hit the hood then roll off. I silently beg this to be a really bad daydream or nightmare. However, the pain from my knuckles where I have my hands wrapped around the wheel informs me that this is real. This couldn't get any better, really it couldn't.

I open one eye and look out through the windshield. I see the neighborhood lane and houses stretching out in front of me, but there's no sign of the thing I had just nearly killed. I still hope it's a dream even as I slide out of the vehicle. I take a tentative step around the hood just as the person jumps up.

"I'm all right!"

"Bloody hell!" I shout, jumping back myself, tripping over my own feet and having to use the side of the vehicle to keep my balance.

I take a moment to catch my breath and slow my racing heart as the young man dusts off his person. He's about nineteen, twenty, twenty-one at the oldest with dark blond hair and strikingly bright blue eyes behind a pair of spectacles. He's wearing an old leather bomber jacket (I say old because that style went out years ago) with a black shirt underneath and jeans tucked into his boots. He brushes back the bangs from his face and turns to me with a smile.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you like that!"

"Are you sure you are all right?" I ask, eyes expertly searching his person for any serious injury. If there was anything good that came out of being in the UTN, besides being able to survive in just about anything was that all personal were taught basic medical. After all, you couldn't always take a medical person on a mission with you, at least without one you would be able to survive long enough to get back to the ship and into expert hands.

"I've had worse," he waves off my concern with a flip of his hand, which I notice is covered with a leather glove.

"Oh, very well then," I mutter. I stand up straighter and pull my shirt straight before turning my full attention to the young man in front of me. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He tilts his head curiously to one side but nods anyway.

I take a shallow breath, "What in god's name where you thinking running out in front of me like that?! Do you have any idea how hurt you could have gotten?! Is it normal for you Yankees to randomly run out in front of a vehicle?!"

He doesn't seem in the least bit bothered by my shouting which pisses me off just a tad. You would think that anyone in his or her right mind would think twice about running in front of a fast moving object unless…I give him a sharp look, eyes narrowing.

"You're not suicidal are you?" I ask cautiously, because if he was suicidal there are a hell of a lot easier ways to kill yourself. A lot of them a lot less painful too.

"What? Of course not! How can you call a hero suicidal?" the boy seems genuinely upset at the idea if the way his brow furrows a bit is anything to go by.

"A hero?" I ask despite my better judgment. I still say he's suicidal.

His grin brightens even more, if that's physically possible, and he nods his head with such fever I'm afraid he might actually hurt himself doing so. He leans against the hood then reels back when he realizes the vehicle is still on and the hood's hot. I can't help the smirk tugging at my lips, I really can't. The kid seems like such an airhead it's running on pathetic.

"Anyway," he says, looking at his hand before offering it to me with another bright smile, "Alfred F. Jones hero extraordinaire at your service!"

I stare at the hand then look back up at his face as I arch a brow. I cross my arms over my chest and lean my hip against the side of the car. His smile falters for a moment as he drops his hand but then it's quickly back full force.

"What does the F stand for?" I drawl in a lazy tone, not really caring but humoring him for the moment.

"Haven't the faintest idea!" he grins back.

My brows shoot up involuntarily, "Really? It's in your name and you don't even know what it stands for?"

"Nope!" he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pockets. "My mom had a weird sense of humor. She knew what it was but never told my dad, drove him crazy."

"I can imagine."

"So, who are you?"

I consider not telling him. But to be honest, he's the first person I've seen in a long time let alone have a conversation with despite the lack of intellect behind it. And he doesn't seem like a bad kid, like I said, a bit dense, but an okay kid. I eye him suspiciously before deciding what the hell.

"Arthur Kirkland," I say, this time offering my hand for a handshake. Mistake on my part because he grabs my hand and shakes it with such vigor that I'm nearly bouncing on my toes, and when he finally releases my hand, my whole arm is tingling. I retract my hand and look at it as I flex it. Bloody hell the kid's got an arm behind him I'll give him that.

"Wait a second," Alfred says, this time eying me suspiciously, "you wouldn't be _the_ Arthur Kirkland would you?"

Time to go. I all but dive back into the driver's seat and the door barely has time to shut before I put in reserve and begin to pull away. Alfred watches with a startled look before he jumps on the hood. He actually jumps on the hood. This kid is dumber than I thought. I slam on the brake to he won't roll off and hurt himself. But I do more harm than good because the braking of the vehicle forces his body forward and he does a pretty face plant with the windshield glass. I wince in sympathy.

"Wait!" he shouts, voice muffled through the windshield. He crawls up and presses his hands flat against the glass. There's a thin trickle of blood running from his nose and it makes me feel even guiltier about it. "Why the hell are you leaving?! Was it something I said?"

I stare at him through the glass. He stares right back, eyes wide with concern and curiosity nothing like what I usually see when someone recognizes me. I'm a UTN Captain therefore, I am part of the organization that's supposed to help protect and look after the Earth. I gained a bit of a reputation during my seven years as Captain of the _Libra_. My number two often made comments about how he wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't a household name. I didn't think then that I would like that, turns out I was right. My reputation, therefore leading to people recognizing me, had gotten me into more trouble than not lately. Ever person I've come across has more or less demanded that I help them. I truly do want to help the people of Earth somehow, but what can I do when I'm just as stuck as they are?

"Arthur, are you okay?"

The voice jerks me from my spiraling thoughts and I am reminded of the man on my hood. I scowl at him and demand he get off my vehicle. He shakes his defiantly making his own demands about knowing what was wrong with me. Does he want the long or short list? He's staring so intently at me that he doesn't notice the small group crawling towards us. I instantly recognize the man from yesterday as well as the less than legal weapon he's sporting in his right hand. Then again, considering the state of things, what was legal and illegal anymore?

"Get in," I demand, throwing the passenger side door open while throwing my jacket in the back seat. He just stares at me.

"Well?!" I shout throwing my hands up in a sort of exasperated motion. He doesn't need to be told a second time. He slides across the hood and quickly scrambles in, barely getting his feet in before I slam the door shut.

"Buckle in," I instruct as I shift the vehicle back into drive. I can see him shoot me a questioning look from the corner of my eye, but he does as he's told. The buckle clicks and I slam on the acceleration. He makes some sort of startled noise as he throws his hands against the dashboard to keep himself in his seat.

I turn a sharp corner and he swears under his breath. I think I hear something about crazy Brits but I don't have time to think on it hard. I glance up in the rear view mirror and almost let out a breath of relief, Alfred's shout of surprise stops me. Several people have just appeared in the middle of the road. I swear loudly and jerk the wheel so sharply to the right while slamming on the brake that once the vehicle stops I slam roughly against the door. My shoulder whines in protest at the rough action and I bite my tongue to keep from swearing again.

"Hey," Alfred mutters as he pulls on his seat strap to lean forward to get a better view out the windshield, "I think those are the same dudes that were chasing me earlier."

"They were chasing you? Is that why you jumped in front of me?" I ask. I rub my shoulder and watch as the men slowly approach. All of them are carrying heavy-duty hand held weapons. Damn it, this was the exact situation I was hoping to avoid.

Alfred nods, "Yeah. I thought I had lost them. Scary bunch."

"Indeed," I say. I finger the lock button on the door and both doors lock with an audible click. Alfred flinches and slowly settles back into his seat, eyes catching mine as I look for more men. Sure enough, there are more moving up the lane. Alfred fidgets nervously.

"Scared? Not much of a hero, are you?" I smirk. I look back out my window, which I had rolled up a moment ago, and am thankful it is such a dark tinted one.

I can see his faint reflection and he scowls at the back of my head. I won't hold it against him; after all, he's a civilian. I'm a trained officer and I have spent more than my share in dangerous situations. Several I had actually been worried that I would lose my life and even a few that had made me want to die. Experiences like those make facing ones like this a little easier. I put all my thoughts in order, concerned only about the ones analyzing the situation. I feel extremely calm, calmer than I have in days actually. I was born to live in situations like this; I was born to be a soldier.

The three men are well built, although not from any sort of physical labor. They have that executive body, which makes them heavy and slow. They were used to living a carefree life in some cozy office somewhere waited on hand and foot no doubt. Their lack of experience also shows in the way that they keep glancing at one another. Obviously, none of them had been the one to give direct orders. They are basically fat, lazy sheep doing and going where the Sheppard herds them. It makes me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I hate men like that, who have no will to do anything for themselves and yet seem to always make it out best in the world.

Right. If they were the sheep following orders then the logical thing to do would be to find the Sheppard. You get rid of the Sheppard then you scatter the herd. I look around to the other side and search the men that were coming up from the right. Ah, there he is. I should have known it would be that bugger from yesterday.

"Between the seats, there's a gun there. I want you to take it," I instruct as the three men from the left stop feet from the vehicle. I hear a bit of shuffling and a grunt as Alfred pulls the gun from its hiding place.

"What do I do with this?" he hisses, eyes glued to the three men from where I can see in the reflection.

"Defend yourself with it if it comes down to it," I whisper calmly back.

"But what about you?"

I glance over and see him clutching the small black gun to his chest with both hands. He's never been in a situation like this, bloody hell. I look out the window over his shoulder as movement catches my eye. The leader is making his way up to the vehicle. I reach over and place my hand over Alfred's mouth just as the other man taps on the window. Alfred's whole body goes rigid as his eyes widen like saucers. I put a finger to my lips and he nods, reaching up and clamping his own hand over my own.

The man on the other side of the door says something to one of the others and moves around the front of the vehicle and to my side. Alfred shudders and his eyes slip shut. I can feel his hand trembling. It only gets worse when the man taps on my window.

"I know you're in there you bastard, get out now. I will drag you out by force if I need to."

Alfred's eyes snap open when I tug my hand away from him. I give him the best reassuring look I can at this point and reach down between my own seats. My finger wraps around the cool metal of a second gun as I unlock my door and my door only. With a short breath, I push the door open so it's just wide enough for me to slip out but not wide enough for the man to see my passenger. I stand so the hand with the gun is hidden behind my back. The bugger was just as ugly as he was yesterday. If I'm lucky, he'll be just as stupid.

"Well, well, lookie here," he sneers. He uses the barrel of his own to turn my face first this way then that. I scowl at him and jerk my face away from his reach. He thinks it's funny and starts laughing. His goons start laughing as well. Stupid bastards don't even know what they're laughing at.

"Y'know, I didn't recognize you yesterday, it been dark and all that," the man mutters as his eyes search me from head to foot. The look in his eye sends an unpleasant chill racing down my spine. I've seen that look before and it's never a bearer of good news. His hand shoots out and grabs my chin. I wince at the rough action and from the way his fingernails are digging into my skin. He turns my head this way and that again before letting me go with a noise of disgust.

"You think you're a big bad UTN officer don'tcha? Well I gots news for ya, ya'll might be that up there," he points unnecessarily at the sky. I think he's trying to be dramatic but he's failing horribly. "But down here, you ain't nobody but another grunt, left to fight over table scraps. By the way, I know you got the kid in there. Do yourself a favor and let us have 'im. And don't think about bein' no hero either. I can just as easily have him shot."

He motions to one of the men behind me and I turn. The man pressed the barrel of his gun against the glass of the passenger side door. At the same time, the leader roughly grabs my shoulders and shoves me against the side of the vehicle. I grunt in pain as the air is forced from my lungs and my right arm is twisted at an awkward and painful angle. He rips the gun from my fingers and steps back far enough so I can push myself off the still running vehicle.

"Now," he says while pointing both weapons square with my chest, "you let us have 'im or we'll make him watch as we kill you all slow like."

"Why are you after him?" I shoot back. I'm stalling for time until I can think of a way out of this.

"He stole from us," the man snarls, eyes narrowing in anger at the memory.

"Really? You didn't seem to have a problem trying to steal from me," I reply with a quirk of a brow.

"That's different; you can afford to have things stolen from you. You're this big hotspot Cap'ain. I'd say that the UTN would be willing to trade you for anything. So, change of plans, you'll be coming with me."

"And what the hell would that help?"

"Bargin'. I bet the UTN would pay a nice price to keep your hide in one piece."

"And the boy?"

The man shrugs, "We don't need 'im now. I'll give him to my boys to play with and when they've had their fun I'll kill 'im. Of course, you'll be joinin' him, in the fun part not the dead part. Wouldn't be much use to us dead, now would ya?"

I bristle, lips drawing back into a snarl that I can't stop. The very idea made me want to throw myself at him and strangle him until he stops twitching, then maybe shoot him for good measure. I'm not so much concerned for my safety; I can look out for myself. It's the blond boy in my passenger seat I also have to take into consideration. And under no circumstances would I allow such a harm to fall on him or any innocent bystander.

"Well, what's it gonna be? Ya gonna come quiet like or am I gonna have to shoot ya then drag ya away kickin' and screamin'?" the man asks as he cocks the gun and points it directly at my left knee.

I open my mouth to tell him what he could do with that gun and where to shove it when I hear the click of a door opening. My eyes drift shut as the door opens and Alfred gets out. I can just imagine him with his hands up in surrender. You bloody fool.


End file.
